


hold on

by texting_fangirl



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Caring Levi, F/F, F/M, Near Death Experience, Other, Reader almost dies, Red String of Fate, Red thread, gender neutral reader, levi actually has feelings after all, levi gets scared for a moment, levi pov, levi's perspective, minor yumikuri - Freeform, nonbinary reader, reader is mostly unconscious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 08:14:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15408759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/texting_fangirl/pseuds/texting_fangirl
Summary: The Survey Corps' expedition outside Wall Rose comes to a sudden standstill after several casualties as the troop is surprised by a strangely high number of titans lingering in an abandoned village.Levi finds the Reader just in time.As Historia and Ymir rush to keep them alive, their Captain makes the strangest discovery





	hold on

He pointedly ignored the tenseness in his stomach, didn't pay attention to the way emotion grappled within.  
The ground beneath his feet seemed to have developed an unnatural pull, his boot clad toes dragging through the dirt, heavier than usual, as always for the first steps after a long time of using the gear.  
The gear. It caught his eye as he hastened towards your body, lying on the ground, the steaming carcass of your opponent not far behind. An outstretched arm bore witness to what had caused your downfall, still it was barely alive.

The fingers twitched, and the beast slowly dragged its ugly, mud splattered face around at the sight of him, and he knew he couldn't allow himself to breathe, couldn't allow himself to pause to kneel beside you just yet, he had to make sure, make sure you hadn't fallen in vain.  
'Kill them all', Eren had muttered in his sleep during the darkest hour of the night on their days long trip outside Wall Rose, a saying that had reached his ears early before he'd first met the boy. Eren's determination, his power to suceed his goal had been admirable for such a young person, even he had seen that, and Erwin had, too.

'Kill them all', it flashed through his head briefly as he approached the fallen titan, his hands drawing blades on autopilot.  
He wasn't cruel, he didn't endorse pain or torture, not on these creatures. It was pointless anyway, nobody could be sure if they shared the same feelings as humans, and there was no point in ending their miserable existence not as soon as possible.

Its hair was shaggy and somewhere between sewer- and mouse brown, its eyes were big and without blinking, and yet they still had some kind of recognition as he approached, muscles in the jaw and cheeks working as he passed, a breath away.

He felt his own face contort into a grimace as he stared into the beast's eyes.

"What do you long for you hope to find in humans." He asked, voice dripping with venom, before jumping on the creatures back and sinking his blades into the thick skin covering the nape of its neck. Steam billowed into his face, alongside blood spraying out towards him, both so hot it scalded his face. Disgusted he wiped it away with the hem of his jacket before taking a second to take in the damage the titan had received from blades that lay beyond your reach now.  
Clean cuts on all joints had immobilized and fallen the thing, each a double marking of steaming lines. He felt the muscles underneath him grow weak and soft the longer he stood on them, the flesh beginning to rot the instant its connection to its live center was cut.

He landed hard on his feet and spend no more time dwelling on thoughts. Two, three hasty steps - who counted them, really, and he was by your side, coming to a sliding stop on his shins, leaning over your body. Hands ghosted over the dents in your blade compartment, the gas container with the broken valve, the blood soaking the left side of your body. Your arm, still weakly clutching the handle, had an additional, sickening twisting point in it, where bone had broken. The green cloak around your shoulder had pulled agonizingly tight around your throat, and his pale hands, stained pink where the titan blood had momentarily burned it, were quick to open the fastenings.  
You sucked in a breath, and it pained him to hear the rattle in it, the wet, almost slurping sounds, shallow and fast.

He didn't realize it, was too caught up in taking in your beaten face, but his right hand was cupping your cheek, turning your face towards him.  
There was blood matting the colour of your hair on the side of your head, caused by a wound you must have caught while falling.

Your name fell from his lips, and for the first time he felt a strange pull on his heart, faint and uncertain, like a small thread had connected to it and was gently tugged.

He was bend over your form, careful, oh so careful to not touch anything he didn't know was still intact, cradled your face in his hands, willed you to open your eyes.  
They did, if only for the slightest bit, and yet he saw the glint of wetness and your irises through the crusted lashes. Tears had run over your face, out of pain, fear or misery he could not tell. He saw your lips moving in a feeble attempt to speak, could almost hear you whisper his name.

He looked up, dared to break eye-contact with you for a moment, spotted two figures whizzing by in the distance. Too far away.  
There was no sound. The birds in this area had gone silent as soon as the first horses had gallopped through the town beginning to overgrow with trees, the sound of gas fleeing the metal cylinders and blades being drawn scaring them.  
Now nothing remained but steam raising into the sky here and there.  
Even the footfall of the giants had succumbed to an eerie silence that meant only one thing: death.

Nobody was around.

He felt his breathing quickening as he looked back down, half expected to have lost you in the heartbeat he spared to look for help. Part of him knew it was futile. He relaxed his fingers still holding on to your face, leaned down further until his head was hovering heartbeats away from yours.

And still you were breathing, more shallow than ever before, eyes having fallen close.

His forehead connected with yours.

He closed his eyes, fought the irrational fear that he'd thought of as long overcome, of losing, again and again, losing people he cared about, losing people he-

He didn't know how to pray, he didn't know how to have faith like the people of the wall religion did. He only knew that his anger, his disdain burned brighter and more fierceful than anything else, and he used it to push on, move forward, never stop to turn and look back.

The world seemed to hold its breath as he kneeled over you, and with all his heart, tried to keep the inevitable from happening.  
His heartbeat was a steady drum in his ears but it wasn't loud enough to drown out the voices that yelled behind him, that caused him to draw back.

Something was stuck to his forehead, and almost panicked his hand shot up.  
To his deep surprise and bewilderement his fingertips wrapped around a thread. It was thin, almost like the one that had come loose on his pillow case just last week, but it stretched, elongated with his movement as he pushed himself up and back to your side. It hung through without tension, and for the first time his eyes could focus on it. It was bright red.

A fear, old as time, sunk its teeth into his very soul.  
He watched, mouth dry and not daring to move, how the thread seemed to softly glow with each heartbeat.  
There was running around him, footsteps closing in.  
White and brown flew around him, and then Historia was kneeling by his side, using a small, sharp knife to cut free your arm that was still twisted in that horrible, gruesome way, sliced through layers of fabrics to reveal bare skin. Ran small, knowing fingers over it, found no blood there, tightened their hold and forced bone back into spots it had sprung free off.

You groaned in response, your head rolled to the other side, away from him and he could only watch as the thread connecting you two thinned. It was almost only a hair, moving as a breeze swept over the scene.

"Captain, I need you to move."  
Her crystal clear blue eyes bore into his, and they held an intensity he could not comprehend.  
He stood up, hesitant, moved to your other side, the one that had the broken equiment on it, away from the dark spots on your uniform.

Ymir was there, supplying Historia with everything the short blonde demanded, and they worked silent and in synch.  
The girl cut through your clothes without blinking after undoing your harness, didn't hiss or click her teeth at the sight of the blood covering your whole ribcage. Something white was jagged outwards, glistening and pearly, and there it was again, that pull on his heart, only now the feeling ran from his chest down to his right hand, into his fingers, and they twitched towards your form involuntarily.  
He moved forward before he could think the better of it, tried to stop himself but let go of false inhibition.

He reached out and wrapped his hand around yours, the one that still held on to the handle of the gear, gently pried the tech out of your cold fingers and placed his own between them instead.  
Something cut into his hand, painfully sharp and quick, like a papercut, and there was a thin red line on the back of his hand.

The very hands he didn't like to look at for long, the hands that spoke of malnourishment and hunger, the fingers that were long and thin, with rounded joints and veins popping up all too easily during excersize.  
Something cut into his skin again, pinched his fingers, left a stingin sensation and he'd have almost pulled his hand away.  
Almost broke the connection.

If it hadn't been for the smallest hint of resistance.

Thin wires wrapped around his hand, wound around his fingers and tied him to you, and once he stopped thinking about letting go, once he leaned forward again and held your hand more tightly, the wires grew softer, turned to thread.

All he could do was stare as they thickened, now visibly read against both of your skins, a millimeter wide and still -

A network of thin, barely there threads spun around your joined hands, knitted them together, securing his hold on you.  
He didn't know what was happening, didn't quite understand, but when he looked up in wonder he found Historia and Ymir giving each other a knowing look, saw their eyes shortly lighting up in recognition as they both let their gaze linger on his hand for a moment.

He didn't know how they knew, or why, or if they could see it, could see the connection that had formed between the two of you.

He didn't know what the blonde and the brunette did, could do nothing but stare down at your interlocked fingers, his breathing all too shallow as the threads pulsed with every beat of his heart, with your heart, thinning in some places, growing stronger in others, and all he could think of was how badly he didn't want the thread to disappear.

His anger, everlasting snd burning bright against the fires of the night, died down at the knowledge there was nothing in his powers he could do here, that he was utterly weak. He felt himself starting to crumble, with horror realized the threads on his hand growing weaker.

"Don't stop.", a voice said somewhere above him to the right.  
His eyes shot up, searched for the owner of the voice, who dared to comment on his situation - searched and found Sasha's hazel gaze, her face filled with childish awe and recognition.

"What?" He brought out, voice husky and rough after not speaking for so long.  
The girl crouched down next to him and her eyes rested on his hand. She outstretched her own and briefly he could feel the warmth of it as it hovered over his, but then she drew back and looked at him, wiser than she should have been for her age.

"She needs you. She needs your strenght. Don't fear what could be lost, hope what could be. Think of what will be. What was."

It didn't make any sense. There was no sense, and his grip on you started to waiver, the thread got dangerously thin and -

The way you had smiled at him from behind Hange came to his mind.  
It wasn't a particular fond memory of his, the day had been incredibly stressful and crap, but there you had been, smiling and radiating a soft sense of hopefulness, for sunshine after a day of rain.

Warmth pooled in his hand and as he looked down he saw the thread again, thicker than before, red against his ghostly pale teint.

The way you had stood off the stage to the side, watching Erwin making his speech to impress the rookies, with your hands folded behind your back and occasionally leaning towards him to make a remark-  
"Hange made him say this part, I walked by the office when they suggested it!"  
"I told him to use that word, it sounds more sophisticated than his usual stuff, don't you think?"

He couldn't recall every little interaction he had have with you, for there had been many, and yet he knew your shared time with each other had been far more sparse than the time he and Erwin had spent in each others presence, less than what he'd have with his squad, less than even with Hange.  
Maybe that was why the stolen moments were sweeter, because he now knew they had been fleeting and short and without meaning at that time but seeing you on the ground here and now-

You weren't like him. You were easy to trust people, to follow Erwin and him; you were curious to everything Hange had to show, interested in everyone around you. You were open and friendly and outgoing, so much different than him, and your almost carefree demeanor had clashed with his brooding silence.  
He remembered Hange waving their finger in front of his face and angrily telling him to cut it out and stop treating you like a bad behaved cadet - until you had put your hand on their shoulder and, with a smile, interrupted the rambling, saying it was okay, that you understood and that he had no obligation to like you.

You had formerly introduced yourself to him, and at the time he had dismissed you without a second comment.

All the times you had made quiet remarks to him, something you'd found funny and had thought of to share with him - suddenly he felt incredibly grateful for them, for he knew he was difficult to befriend, or even like. And still you hadn't stopped trying to get him to warm up to you, even after weeks of being treated like air and even the cadets had started to pick up on it.

He admitted he didn't want to like you, because you reminded him of everything he wasn't, could never be. Had missed his chance to be.  
And how very grateful, how thankful he was you had never stopped being friendly to him, smiling at him, seeing and accepting the way he showed his approval of things, of embracing his sort of humour.

He only realized Historia had stopped working on you as she stood up, Ymir towering behind her.

"Did it work?" He brought out, feeling the warm air rising from the ground as the sun shone on his back.

"They'll live. But we can't move, or else the wounds will open and destroy them completely. Lucky we have these houses surrounding us."

A shiver, hot and sudden, ran down his back and he loosened the tie in his shirt.  
As he looked down, your hands looked normal - there was no red yarn spun around them. Testing, he opened his fingers, stiff from the lack of movement, and found no resistance holding them back. When he looked to your face he saw it relaxed, lips parted and moving the grass by your mouth with every breath.

Immense relief washed over him, nearly drowned him in exhaustion, but the knowledge he hadn't lost you was what brought him on his feet again.

Historia hadn't moved, stood by your hips like a guardian angel.

"What else?" He asked, sensing it wasn't over quite yet.

"As I said, we can't move them. We have to stay here, until the healing process is well established."  
She looked uncertain , but rose he shoulders after finishing her statement.

"How long." Was all he brought out, looking down on your face, still drained of healthy signs of life and still alive.

"Months." The blonde almost whispered.

 

-

 

He opened the door and quickly shut it behind him, but the sharp wind that told of winter and snow didn't let itself be fully shut out. It found a way through the cracks, underneath the door and around it, but the strong winds that had whipped his hair around and tore on his cape were kept at bay.

He house lay still and quiet, in the shine of several candles, and Jean and Eren broke off their murmured conversation after he had shaken wet leaves and the first hints of slushy, thin snow off his cloak.

The stairs moaned and gave small sounds of displeasure, causing all three heads to turn to where an exhausted Historia came into sight.

"How are they?" He asked, mixed emotions painting a picture of worry but knowing you'd be alright after all.

"We'll be able to move back towards the cities soon. Only a little while longer until the ribs have begun to grow more endurable."  
She smiled, and he nodded, before making his way into the hastily stocked kitchen, to empty his saddle pockets into the cupboards.  
Weeks had gone by in which you and two cadets who'd been found alive had battled fever, shivers and rested, there was no need to rush back just yet.

The evening patrol had scouted no titans in the surrounding area, so they'd be safe for the night.

It'd be good to have you back at HQ, he thought, as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and set to reheating the soup the cadets had cooked earlier, preparing the dough for the bread that was to be baked in the morning.

Something tugged on his pinky finger, and without giving the dough that sat untouched in the cupboard a second look, he turned to the stairs and up to the room he knew you stayed at.

When he gently pushed open the door he found you laying on your back, as always, head tipped back and blankets pulled up to you chin.

"Captain, it's so nice to see you again." You smiled, lips still colourless, even though the spark had returned to you eyes.

"Likewise, Soldier." He mumbled, before pulling a chair over and sitting down next to your bed.


End file.
